The Fall of Zeus

In the political Olympus of Israel, Netanyahu, the Zeus of our time, commands a realm of illusions and manufactured storms. He clutches power like sand slipping through his fingers, each grain a broken promise, a lost ally. He watches rebellion rise from his throne, led by Ben-Gvir, the modern Hades master of shadows, patiently waiting to seize control.

Meanwhile, Rabbi Moshe Hillel Hirsch, like a tragic prophet, cries out his doom in foreign lands. “The leftists are destroying us!” His voice echoes like a dark oracle, foretelling the apocalypse of the yeshivas. But let’s not be naive, dear reader. This is not a battle between good and evil but a comedy of errors between power and decency. Hirsch, in his apocalyptic rhetoric, conveniently forgets that the real threat doesn’t come from the leftists but from internal betrayals.

Like a modern Aegisthus, the betrayed and morally dubious Dery shouts into the phone, his words exploding like summer thunder. He demands that the “Rabbi Law” advances, a desperate move to maintain his power. However, in the Greek tragedy that is Israeli politics, each of Dery’s cries is another note in the symphony of decay.

Netanyahu, trying to tame the chaos, sees his control unravel. The “Rabbi Law” should have been an easy play, but it becomes a trap. Likud legislators, supposed allies, rebel, inspired by the cunning Ben-Gvir, who sees opportunity in disorder. The result? Netanyahu is forced to retreat, once again humiliated by those who should be his loyal subjects.

And then, the true tragedy unfolds: yeshiva students, once protected, now face being treated like any other Israeli citizen. They will be marked as deserters if they do not serve in the army. As in Greek tragedies, sinners must pay their debts. It was an unthinkable humiliation for the ultra-Orthodox, who trusted Netanyahu as their savior. But Zeus cannot hold back all the storms; now, his kingdom trembles.

Irony, as always, is a sweet poison. Lieberman, the arch-enemy of the Haredim, laughs in the shadows, waiting to take the throne of a disintegrated Likud. Ben-Gvir, the Hades, plays his dirty game, each move calculated to secure his ascent. And the Haredim? They must decide whether to cling to Netanyahu’s wreckage or dare to forge new alliances, even if it means making pacts with the hated leftists.

In this Greek tragedy, Israeli politics unfolds as a spectacle where each character is both hero and villain, victim and executioner. Olympus is ablaze, and at the center of it all, Netanyahu, Zeus of a decadent era, struggles to maintain a power that slips away daily. Ironically, this drama unfolds just steps from the ancient ruins of Caesarea, where the echoes of past glories mingle with the whispers of the present, reminding us that even the greatest empires end in dust.